River
by shialuvr222
Summary: '"I'm so sorry," she says, her voice thick with tears.' Winner of an exclusive writing competition. Required genre: angst/tragedy. Prompt: A romantic death at sunrise. Oneshot. Major character death.


A/N: Hey! I wrote this two weeks ago for an exclusive writing competition (meaning, a competition between a friend and I lol) and it was judged today. I won :) Although, I personally thought the other entry was better... Still grateful I won, though :) Anyway, this is vague, but I wrote it with Abby and Tim as the intended characters. Tell me what you think! PLEASE!

Disclaimer: Tim and Abby aren't together, so I OBVIOUSLY don't own NCIS.

XXX

There is a river that runs through Washington D.C.. It begins at the Fairfax Stone in West Virginia, and continues east to end in the Chesapeake Bay. It runs through four states and the District of Colombia, and sees over five million people as it makes its way to the Atlantic Ocean.

Today, though, it focuses on two people. The morning is cold, and the sun has yet to lift its tired head above the horizon. They linger by its banks, seeing their time together draw to a close.

One of them hangs on to life, and the other hangs on to him. She cradles his head in her arms, wishing she could have blocked the bullet threatening to take him away from her now. His breathing is labored, and she knows that his shivering doesn't come from the bitter cold. She tries not to acknowledge his blood, staining her ivory hands.

His eyes are closed, but she knows that he is awake. Every inhalation is a struggle, she knows, as the waves of pain rack his body. She is helpless to save him, helpless to ease his agony. It is agony, of course. The bullet entered a lung.

"Hang in there," she tells him, fighting back her overwhelming emotions. "You'll be fine."

His attempt at a smile comes out as a grimace, but she appreciates his effort. "You and I," he wheezes, "both know how this is going to end."

She wants to deny it, to give him hope, but she knows he'll see right through it.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this," she finally says.

"It wasn't supposed to end at all."

She is quiet after that. It's true, she reflects. They were supposed to be forever.

She had never expected things to be perfect, of course. But seeing firsthand how one gunshot had altered everything she wanted in life, she realizes how fragile the world is.

The analogies are wrong, she thinks. The world isn't crashing down around her. No, she is falling away from it. He is the only one who has ever been able to catch her, and when he dies, she will be lost, drifting further and further away.

He startles her by reaching blindly for her hand, and she takes it, hoping it may be a comfort to him. An ambulance is on its way, but she knows how far away the hospital is. It will be too late.

She doesn't know how long they have been here, but it has been long enough for the early morning mist to clear. The sky has slowly begun to lighten, though the sun hasn't shown its face yet.

He surprises her again when he begins to speak. "You already know I love you."

She wipes a bit of blood from his face. "Yes."

"I don't want you to blame yourself. Tell me you won't." His sentences pause every few seconds.

"I won't." It's a lie, and they both know it. But it's one he asked for.

"I love you."

He smiles a bit at hearing that. Then he opens his eyes. Though clouded with pain, they are still the beautiful green that she knows.

His hand shakes as he raises it to her face, brushing her hair from her forehead. He doesn't notice the blood on her face, probably because his vision is beginning to blur. She notices, but doesn't care.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, and somehow she knows that his voice isn't low because he's so weak. It's low so that she and she alone can hear it.

The dirt below them is dark with his blood. The water rushes by, not ten feet away. He turns his head to look.

The sun broke on the horizon a few moments before. The sky is now colored with gentle yellows and pinks, the black of night retreating to the other side of the world. The sentiment of the sky reflects on the clear, rushing water of the river. Such a beautiful river.

"Can you imagine missing this?"

The words touch her heart, and he turns his head back to her. He opens his mouth to speak, but she touches her finger to his lips.

"I'm so sorry," she says, her voice thick with tears.

He doesn't even need to speak. His eyes say it all. The eyes she loves. They are serious, intelligent, sincere, loving, understanding and calm.

"Don't be," he says quietly.

He shifts and takes in the scene before him one more time. The rising city. The beautiful woman he loves. The river that will always be there, even after everyone else is gone.

He breathes in the cold morning air one more time. He never exhales.

There is a river that runs through Washington D.C.. It begins at the Fairfax Stone in West Virginia, and continues east to end in the Chesapeake Bay. It runs through four states and the District of Colombia, and sees over five million people as it makes its way to the Atlantic Ocean.

Today, though, it focuses on two people. A woman, distraught over the loss of something she cannot replace. A man, growing cold as the life leaves his damaged body. They sit there, together, and yet distant, as he is somewhere else by now.

Help arrives minutes later. A few minutes too late.

XXX

A/N: Well? I don't know if you don't tell me, ya know...


End file.
